Seasons
by Palantia
Summary: When one fateful winter takes Haru's grandmother, will he ever not be alone again? Based on prompt: "Love is like war; easy to begin but very hard to stop." [Mako/Haru friendship]
1. Winter

Winter arrived with a chaos of cold air and storms, tearing up trees from their roots and churning waves from blue to black, scattering a darkness across the sky. The days were short and the nights were long, as clouds suffocated the sun and what little light there was struck the ground in sharp blues and whites. Outside not a soul ventured into the dead air of the town, all was silent, all was empty. All except for a little boy and his ratty toy.

He sat by the beach, feet dangling over the edge of the promenade as his arms hugged around a tattered scarf, a faded pink with the smell of woman's perfume still clinging to it. His eyes were glazed over as he stared into the distance, his mind not on the storm ravaged beach. He was in a happier time where the sky was soft and the sea was smooth and the scarf was wrapped around another neck, a warm arm around his own.

But that was another time, and that warm arm was now a ghostly cold and that calm day had been twisted into chaos. The roots of his life had been torn up from the ground, and the waves of his comfort had been churned from blue to black. All that was left for him was darkness.

That was the winter his grandmother died and Haru felt truly alone.


	2. Spring

With spring comes new beginnings. The stark trees blossom with whites and pinks, the ocean is calm and blue, a slight breeze kisses the air. The days get longer and more light fills the skies, a bright yellow bursting each morning to greet the people as they skip down the streets to a fresh new sun. Oranges and greens and reds and purples dance in the air as fruits and spices line the markets and the trees, and sweet aromas bloom in the air. Outside the dark storm has cleared and the little boy is back to the present.

He glides his body through a clear blue, sliding through an opening as he flies easily through the water. Above him the clear blue sky reflects in his eyes and his clear blue pupils glisten as chlorine and tears mingle, a storm still brewing there. A pink scarf and ratty toy still sit by the side of the pool, almost forgotten as his head dives beneath the water once again. But today they are not alone in their spectating; another boy gazes with brown orbs as the sun dances across his face and his mouth hangs wide in amazement.

He watches for a while, sitting in the light, before the other boy finally emerges from the clear blue, dripping with water and a look of confusion at the sight of his spectator. _You're incredible _the boy says with a smile, _do you want to swim together after school?_ The other nods silently and so, like the trees, their friendship blossomed.

The spring continued as more flowers bloomed along the pathways, as two boys walked along in silent conversation, already a sense of understanding between them. Pinks and whites follow their trail, reds and blues float behind them as two boys giggle at a shared joke, formed by their hours of swimming and games. Clear blue skies and clear blue waters settle as tears fade and ratty you'd and pink scarves are forgotten at home. The sum dances on the faces of toy boys, as one pushes the other into the water with a splash.

That was the spring Haru met Makoto, the spring he felt he would never be alone again.


	3. Summer

Summer comes in a haze of laughter and giggles and friendship and fun, of swimming and relays and hellos and goodbyes. The air is filled with a bright yellow as a heavy warmth falls across the town, the trees sway in the light breeze and the paths are a glitter of fruits and berries. The ocean sweeps up and down the beach, the sand bowing to the waves of royal blue, as the red feet of sunburnt tourists dance to the tune of the shallows. In the town, water explodes out of fountains and storms out of taps as people try and drown the sticky heat. Adults lay flopped on seats in the shade, children run and skip as they relish in the sun they have been waiting all year to come. All children are at play, all except for one group of four boys.

These four boys plunge their heads through a clear blue pool, laughter and shouts as one splashes the other and another is dunked beneath the surface, spluttering and kicking to return to the warm air. They smile and they frown, they laugh and they cry, as the bright yellow bounces across their damp skim, the clear blue glistening in the light and they prepare themselves for a relay they are already bound to win.

Soon the bright yellow turns to a muted orange turns to a deep red and the boys begin to yawn as they say their farewells and they say their goodbyes. Two boys walk home together, a comfortable silence floats around them as they gaze out to the sea, small smiles painted onto their faces. The path ahead of them winds slowly out, and they follow it, eventually turning their eyes from the sea and towards each other. Clear blue meets deep brown as they each take a dive. Already the clear blue is glistening to the other boy, shining like they did on that spring. But only now is the dark brown finally glowing gold in the dim light of setting sun, a beacon to follow with the clear blue becomes murky as light begins to fade.

Another summer comes and goes like the one before, with setting suns and blooming fruit and the soft swish of the sea as the moon shines silver in the sky. With it comes another relay, with more tears and more laughs, and more sulks and more smiles. Happiness blossoms and friendship grows as the four boys become five and past sadness is forgotten. Again two boys walk home together, just them the moon and the sea, their faces radiant and glistening in the light of the other.

Those were the summers where they laughed and swam, those were the summers where Makoto began to glow.


	4. Autumn

Autumn comes with a wash of golden days, where leaves float to the ground, old hurt is washed away and new memories are formed. A cold chill begins to set in the air, as the tourists leave and are replaced with ushering mothers, hurrying workers and reluctant students. A steam seeps out of dry mouths, floating outwards in a puff, with children across the town transforming into dragons. The winding pathways are covered in a thick blanket of reds and browns, a crispy crunch begging to be destroyed by eager stamps and jumps. Above, a flurry of oranges and amber twist and turn in an energetic dance, their movements like a flame, emanating its heat for all to feel. All around, the town is preparing for Halloween, with orange pumpkins and black bats, with silver streamers and white ghosts. Autumn has come with fear and fun.

Six boys gather around a bonfire, their faces painted white and black as they huddle with blankets and hot chocolate. One boy stands up, a torch shining beneath his face, casting stark shadows across his skin, making his blond hair burn bright. He proclaims in a loud whisper that tonight they are to tell each other creepy ghost stories, the scarier the better, and the first to chicken out will have to swim in the cold sea in the morning. Some of the boys laugh, pointed teeth and glasses relishing in the task. Some of the boys shudder, two faces paling in fear. But as the night goes on, stars twinkling above them, fears and tasks are forgotten as stories of memories are told and songs of laughter spring from their mouths.

Morning comes all too early, a harsh bright sun hard on the eyes of sleep deprivation. They roll out of sleeping bags and into breakfast, warm pizza all round to heat their bones. A game of truth or dare is proposed, met with groans and cheers, as each are made to reveal their greatest dreams and greatest fears. One boy is going to swim in competitions and then become an instructor, another is going to be a vet, one wants to do science and the rest are unsure or simply don't care. The six boys lay back into the green grass, sinking down with smiles and light words as they enjoy the simplicity of the other's company and they breathe in the pleasure of endless days.

That was the autumn where they all found their own dreams, that was the autumn when they were all truly happy


	5. Winter (again)

When winter comes again it hits with sharp winds and harsh storms, shattering their golden days and smothering it with the darkness that carried solitude and despair. The golden leaves are a dull grey, whisked away by the winds with an unfurling storm as the sky turns black and the oceans thrash and churn. The winding paths are shattered and broken, with torn branches and smashed bricks. Large clouds haunt the skies, a shadowed presence suffocating the moon and stars. Frost bites the ground, its sharp teeth gauging into grass and bushes and a small boy sitting by the promenade.

He sits still, nothing moving except for the violent shivers that rack his body with each haggard breath. Tears stream down his face, dripping into the light pink scarf around his neck as he clings a ratted toy close to his chest. Silence hangs around him, not a soul moving in the town, mot a sound heard behind closed windows. The small boy is entirely alone.

But this winter he finds no solace in calming memories and he finds no comfort in the smell of a forgotten scarf. He is attacked on all sides by a raging storm, of burning ice and cares wind, carrying those words, the words he will always remember.

_I'm leaving Iwatobi, Haru. I've got a scholarship to a vet school!_

_I will come and visit you. Tokyo isn't that far._

_Haru, I'm leaving Japan, I'm going to America._

_Leaving, leaving, leaving._

Leaving and never coming back.

They pierce at his clothes and hammer at his skin, twisting and turning around his head and getting caught in his hair. Stuck- they never leave. They launch at his arms and dive at his legs, leaving mottled blues and blacks and browns.

_Leaving, leaving, leaving._

The words follow the small boy as he stands up from the promenade. He takes a step, and another. Going forward, never looking back. He takes a step, and another. The black waves swarm over his head. The blue water engulfs him.


End file.
